


Liar, Liar

by SilenceIsGolden15



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2k18 [18]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Gen, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Prompt: Truth Serum, Protective Pidge | Katie Holt, Protective Shiro (Voltron), Secrets, Self-Doubt, Swearing, Truth Serum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 13:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16493105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceIsGolden15/pseuds/SilenceIsGolden15
Summary: Keith gets grabbed while on a mission, and of course it's the most secretive member of the team who gets injected with the prototype truth serum. This should be fun.





	Liar, Liar

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so I'm not entirely confident in this one but my betas say its good so here ya go.

_ Why do they always go for the neck?  _

Keith could recall at least three times on previous missions that he’d had something stuck in his neck, four if you count this time. He couldn’t figure out why. Surely the veins in the arm were much easier to use. Maybe it was because his suit was in the way?

Whatever the reason, he’d been injected with some kind of drug, which was never good. Especially when the person injecting him was a Galra interrogator. 

“There,” the interrogator growled as he stepped back with the empty syringe. “That’ll loosen your tongue.” 

The drug was cold-- he could feel it making its icy way through his body. He wasn’t sure what to expect-- pain or a high-- but either way he wouldn’t say anything. That he was confident in.

The Galra returned to his own chair, across a table from where Keith was bound. His face was rather round and lumpy, kind of like the commander from Olkarion, but minus the scales. He folded his clawed hands in front of him and smirked.

“Where is the rest of Voltron?”

“Probably on their way to kick your ass,” Keith said, then blinked. He’d intended on stony silence, not the first snarky response that popped into his head. The pleased look on the interrogators face wasn’t helping. He felt… foggy. Like his brain was just slightly removed from his body. Sluggish. 

“Where is the Castle of Lions?”

Keith scoffed, even though he hadn’t decided to. “You think I understand Altean star maps?” Then he blinked again, frowned heavily, and asked, “What did you do to me?”

The interrogator leaned back in his chair, shoulder armor clinking against the metal. His mouth opened. 

Alarms blared, his smile dropped, and Keith laughed.

“You better run,” he said in a taunting tone he didn’t even know he had, “Shiro’s here, and he’s gonna be pissed.”

Scowling, the Galra got to his feet. “Shut up,” he snapped as he stalked past Keith’s chair, heading for the door. 

“I thought the point was for me to talk?”

The slam of the door was the only answer. 

“Fuck,” Keith whispered as soon as he was alone. His head ached dimly from the hit he’d taken from the drones, the drug was icy in his veins, and thoughts flowed from his brain out his mouth as easily as silk rather than getting stuck in the quicksand the way they usually did. He wasn’t sure if it was the head injury or the drug making everything look slightly blurred, but either way the effect wasn’t helping the ache at all. 

“Fuck, what is wrong with me?”

Pushing his emotions away was something he thought he was good at. But now it wasn’t working-- every feeling went off like a firework and dissipated just as quickly. Right now it was fear twisting behind his chest plate.

“What is happening, fuck fuck fuck, shut up, why can’t I shut up, is this how Lance feels all the time?”

A clang in the hall cut off his muttering. Thirty seconds later the door slid open and hope popped and fizzled in his brain. 

“Shiro?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Are you ok?” He felt Shiro’s hands descend on his wrists, removing the bonds.

“No,” he admitted for the first time in his life. “I’m not, they did something, I can’t stop talking, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Shiro--” The last word came out as a plaintive whine and he just wanted to die from embarrassment, but before the feeling could escape from his mouth Shiro was hauling him to his feet.

“It’s alright Keith, we’ll take care of it at the Castle.”

Shiro turned back towards the door, clearly expecting Keith to follow, but he didn’t. He knew he had to, but his feet were just… stuck. Like quicksand. Like that drug had taken it from his throat where it usually lived and put it everywhere else instead.

“Keith?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I know we have to go, I just-- I’m a little--”

Shiro’s lips pressed into a thin line (the way they always did when he was worried but he didn’t have the time to let it show) and grasped Keith by the wrist to pull him along. Just as the interrogator came back into the room.

For a second they all just stood and stared at each other before the Galra snarled and launched himself at Keith. 

The instinct was there. Dodge. But his body apparently didn’t get the memo, because he stayed exactly where he was, unable to do anything but watch as the interrogator pulled his blade--

And Shiro crashed into his side, tackling him into the wall. Two more hits from his prosthetic and the Galra was out cold on the floor and Keith was still standing there like a dumbass.

“I--I’m sorry,” he stuttered, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I knew I needed to move, it just wouldn’t  _ work--” _

“Come on, let’s just get out of here.” As gently as he could given the situation, Shiro took Keith’s hand and tugged him forward. This time he went, apparently fine as long as someone other than himself was doing the moving. It made his skin crawl and he couldn’t help but voice that to Shiro was they went through the halls, though the Black Paladin didn’t respond. 

“Can you fly?” He asked when they reached the hangar. 

“I’m not sure,” Keith answered even though he’d bitten really hard on his tongue to keep from admitting it. His body was still there, he could still feel it, it was just kind of numb and slow, like a sedated turtle. Pinpricks spread through his fingers like radio static. 

Then he felt the familiar warm pull in his chest, beating back the icy chill of the drug, and his feet moved forward when he told them to.

“It’s alright,” he called to Shiro over his shoulder, “Red is helping me.”

Once aboard, Red had to do most of the precision flying, since Keith’s arms still responded far too slowly to his brain to do more than just point her in the right direction. The little firecrackers of feeling were still going off, followed by a burst of words he couldn’t hold back no matter how hard he tried, and eventually he shut off the comms.

He endured the rest of the ride home with only the company of his own voice.  

* * *

“Hmmmmmmm,” hummed Coran, peering at the screen of his tablet while Keith fidgeted anxiously on a nearby cot. Shiro had brought him down for a scan as soon as they got back, then everyone had changed out of their armor while it processed before returning to hear the verdict. Keith was still stiff and slow, but he’d managed to get around without Shiro’s help, thank god. He’d never live it down otherwise. 

“It appears you were injected with some sort of prototype truth serum.”

Pop. Terror.

_ “Fuck,”  _ he burst out immediately, making everyone else jump in surprise. “I have to say everything I think?”

“Wow,” Pidge said while stepping forward to peer at Coran’s screen. “That’s fascinating, they actually made something like that work?”

Pop. Anger.

“It’s not fascinating, Pidge! This isn’t theory, it’s actually happening, it’s happening to me, it’s not an experiment--”

“Keith.” Allura’s voice and expression were stern. “There’s no need to shout.”

Pop.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry Pidge, I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry!” Keith didn’t even notice that he’d pulled his arms closer and closed in until Shiro was pushing his shoulders back. 

“Hey, it’s ok, it’s gonna be ok Keith.”

Pop.

He latched onto Shiro, burying his face into his abdomen and clinging with all his might. Thankfully the position muffled the words he couldn’t bite back but that didn’t stop his face from turning fire engine red.

“It’s ok.” Shiro’s voice was soothing as he dragged a hand through Keith’s hair. “Coran, what else can you tell us?”

“Well, it should only last about ten vargas, at most.” Whatever Keith was forced to say to that was blessedly muffled by Shiro’s shirt. “It’ll begin to wear off over time. He should start finding it easier to filter his words.” 

“What about the movement?”

“Ah, that’s just a side effect. It seems the chemical forces the brain to channel more energy towards speech than movement, so he’ll be a bit slow on his feet while it lasts.”

Keith kicked one of his feet, just to see, and it moved two seconds after he thought the command. Great. 

“Guys,” Lance’s voice made Keith tense up immediately, “I think you’re missing a great opportunity here.” 

“Lance,” said Shiro, warning, but Lance barreled onwards.

“What? We don’t know anything about him. Think of it as team bonding.”

Then a hand was on his shoulder, peeling him off of Shiro, and before he was ready he had to see everyone’s faces again, scattered around the room and all of them staring. Lance was the closest. 

“Come on, Keith, you know everything about us, it’s only fair.”

“It’s not fair,” Keith protested, and a few of the others exchanged looks. Shiro’s eyes were glued on Lance, as were Hunk’s, who spoke first. 

“Hey, Lance, if he doesn’t want to--”

Lance flapped a hand carelessly and Keith flinched. 

“It’s not a big deal, right? Just tell us one thing. About your family maybe.”

Pop. Grief exploded in his stomach, and Keith couldn’t stop the tears from welling up and the sick despair tangling up in him. 

“I don’t--” Before he could finish his sentence he shoved his hand between his teeth and bit down. Instantly there was an explosion of voices, all calling his name in reprimand, but he merely bit down harder to prevent his lips from releasing the words they were struggling to form. 

He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to tell the truth; that he was an orphan, that no one wanted him. He didn’t want to give Lance more ammunition. Warm tears spilled down his cheeks and he squeezed his eyes shut. 

A cool arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“It’s ok, Keith.” Shiro’s voice.

Pop. Pop. Pop. 

It was too much. Too much emotion. He was drowning in it. He was shaking, words roared at the back of his throat, and he bit down until he tasted blood.

“He’s overwhelmed, everyone back up.”

A dozen feet shuffled over metal.

“Shiro, I’m sorry, I didn’t--”

“We’ll talk about it later, Lance.” 

Shiro pulled Keith to his feet and he went without moving his hand or opening his eyes. 

“Coran, can I have some bandages please? I’ll take him to his room and patch him up.”

Keith swallowed blood. 

The moment they got back to his room Keith threw himself onto his bed and buried himself into his pillow. Shiro, that traitor, chuckled.

“Alright drama queen, give me your hand.” 

“I’m not a drama queen,” Keith mumbled into the pillowcase, though he extending his arm anyway.

He’d left his gloves in his room earlier in his haste to get the scan results, and once Shiro was done bandaging the bite marks he pulled them on over the cloth. 

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Yes,” Keith blurted out before promptly turning red. “I mean, if you want to, you don’t  _ have  _ to, I don’t want to waste your time--”

Shiro gave him a gentle smile and clambered onto the bed beside him as an answer. 

“You’re never a waste of time,” he said, and Keith’s mouth opened without his permission.

“Yes I am, I got caught, I ruined the mission--”

Shiro’s eyes turned sad. “Keith--”

Keith turned away and buried his face into his blanket to muffle the rest of the words. Shiro said his name again and he cringed away, breathing in the strange scent of Altean soap in search of an anchor to ground him against the sudden rushing river of guilt flowing through him. 

With a sigh, Shiro dropped a hand to card through Keith’s hair, trying to soothe, even as Keith twisted himself into a confusing knot of shame. 

He was used to the self deprecating thoughts. It was how he fueled himself, how he kept pushing to be even better than he was. If he’d learned anything since his father’s death, it was that if you couldn’t keep up, you’d be left behind. He just wasn’t used to saying them out loud.

Shiro’s hand kept going, soft and gentle, and after a few minutes the guilt faded away like the smell of gunpowder after a firework show, and his eyes drifted shut.

Keith was halfway asleep when he felt Shiro’s hand stop.

“Don’t,” rolled off his tongue like a mouthful of marbles, and Shiro paused. “It feels good.” 

There was a moment of awkward silence before Shiro resumed the motion. Thankfully Keith was still in his pre-dream haze and didn’t have enough brain cells operating to be embarrassed. 

Ten minutes later Keith fell into slumber. Shiro didn’t stop petting his hair.  

* * *

Keith slept for two vargas. Waking up felt like swimming through oil, leaving a film of sleepy blankness when he surfaced. 

Shiro was still there. He’d dug Keith’s tablet out from under the bed at some point and appeared to be going through a report. His hand still moved over Keith’s scalp, slow and even; it almost put him right back to sleep. 

The explosion of emotion was slower this time. The boom farther away on the horizon, and there was a pause before the words wormed their way out from under his tongue. 

“You’re still here?”

Shiro jumped at the raspy sound of his voice.

“Keith, hey,” he said with a gentle smile when he saw Keith’s open eyes. “Of course I’m still here.”

Sizzle.  _ You’ve left before.  _ Keith really didn’t want to say that. The sparks of bitterness rained down in him as he ground his teeth, trapped his tongue between them, fisted his hands in the blankets and tried his damn best not to say it. 

Shiro watched his expression with narrowed eyes. “Is it wearing off?”

Keith inhaled through his nose. “I think so,” he murmured once he was sure the thoughts wouldn’t slip out. “A little bit.” 

“That’s good.”

Unfortunately, it wasn’t wearing off  _ that  _ much, because the next two words out of Keith’s mouth were, “I’m hungry.”

Shiro chuckled lightheartedly but it didn’t stop Keith’s muscles from tensing painfully, already stiff and sore from sleeping and the effects of the drug. 

He never just… said things like that. He never asked for help when he was hungry or thirsty or tired-- he just took care of it himself or waited. He didn’t want to be rude, or pushy, or irritating, all things he’d been told he was over the years. 

Pop.

“I’m sorry,” said Keith, cutting off Shiro’s laughter. He shoved his face back down into the blankets, trying to muffle it, but Shiro heard anyway. 

“It’s ok, I’m kinda hungry too.” One of Shiro’s hands descended back into his hair as he checked the time stamp on the tablet. “Looks like it’s about dinner time. Let’s go see what we’re having tonight.”

“Probably goo,” Keith grumbled, but he let Shiro pull him up from the bed anyway. The walk down to the kitchen was quick (Keith trying to smooth down his tousled hair the whole way) and soon the door was hissing open to admit them. The other paladins were already there-- Hunk at the counter apparently trying to make the goo more eatable, Pidge perched on another counter nearby with her laptop balanced on her knees, and Lance at the table, leaning his chair back on its back legs so that he could prop his feet up.

Pop.

“Oh no,” slipped out before he can stop it, and Shiro laughed again when Lance’s head snapped around to give him a glare. Pidge and Hunk were chuckling too, the latter setting down the mixing bowl he was holding and moving around the counters to stand behind Lance.

“Don’t worry Keith,” he said, clapping Lance on the shoulder and making him wobble precariously. “We talked about it and nobody is gonna ask you any more personal questions. Right, Lance?”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Like I want to hear what Mullet thinks, anyway.”

Sizzle. The words rose slower that time-- Keith was able to bit the inside of his lip and keep them in. Shiro took his arm and pushed him into a chair, thankfully three or four seats down from Lance, before sitting down next to him. 

“What’s for dinner tonight?” He asked Hunk, idly balancing his chin on his metal hand. 

“I don’t have much left from our last supply shipment,” Hunk began with a hint of remorse, “But I have some herbs and a couple of things that look like potatoes, so I think I can make something kind of like mashed potatoes? Hopefully? We’ll see how it goes.”

The conversation ebbed and flowed around the room, mostly between Hunk and Lance with Shiro and Pidge contributing occasionally. Keith didn’t say much. He was practicing holding his words in. It was getting easier, with more of the emotion bursts feeling like sparks rather than explosions, and with those he could hold them in at about a seventy percent success rate. 

Forty-five minutes after they walked in dinner was ready. Pidge passed out the bowls of the same green goo, merely a bit lumpier with some fun colored leaves sprinkled on top, while Hunk set aside a couple for the Alteans who were apparently busy fixing yet another Castle glitch. 

For the first time that day things seemed to be going fine. Keith could keep in most of his thoughts if he tried, and most of the things that slipped out weren’t too revealing. That is, until they came to his least favorite part of the evening: the required Lance vs. Keith spat. 

It always happened. No matter what they were talking about Lance would find a way to take a jab at Keith. Usually Keith would retaliate, and they’d trade insults until one of the others got tired of it and shouted at them to knock it off. 

Today’s topic, apparently, would be the Lions. Shiro had been telling them about a new set of training exercises he’d come up with; one of which would be one to work on their speed. Which Lance, of course, interpreted as racing.

“Me and Blue are definitely gonna win,” he said, blatantly cutting off Shiro in the middle of his explanation. “We have the strongest bond, even Allura says so.”

Keith didn’t try very hard to hold back the sizzle of irritation. “It’s not about bonds, Lance, it’s about speed. Green and Red are faster than Blue.”

Lance, having finished his dinner, leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms with a smirk. “It’s ok Mullet, I can read between the lines. You just don’t want to admit I can beat you.”

“It’s not even a race!” Keith exclaimed, throwing up his hands. “It’s just training!”

“Oh Keith, it’s a real shame,” answered Lance with a faux-sad shake of his head. “You just don’t understand healthy competition. No wonder you didn’t last at the Garrison.”

Pop.

Keith dropped his spoon with a clatter, making everyone jump and look in his direction as he gripped the edge of the table with enough force to turn his knuckles white. Blood filled his mouth from where he was biting his tongue but the words refused to stay in this time.

“Why are you always so fucking mean?”

Everything came to a standstill as Lance gaped. 

“Wh-what?”

“What did I ever do to you?” Keith had his face tipped down towards the table, trying to conceal his expression behind his hair. He gnashed his teeth, trying to stop talking,  _ please please please stop talking,  _ but he couldn’t. He felt like he couldn’t breathe through the smoke in his lungs. “I didn’t even know you and you already decided you hated me.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lance sit up straighter. He was going to fight back. 

“And I had a good reason to! You always acted like you were better than everyone else, never talking to anybody and always following Shiro around like a lapdog--”

“Lance--” Shiro tried to intervene, but Lance just talked louder and made Keith hunch into his shoulders. 

“Why didn’t you ever make friends, huh? Didn’t think the rest of us were good enough for you?”

Pop. Sizzle. Pop. He ground molars together and tried not to feel the warmth welling in his eyes for the second time in the same day. 

“No, that’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” Lance hadn’t moved from his position in his chair, but the expression on his face made him look ten stories tall, looming at the end of the table. Keith didn’t even try to hold the words in.

“I didn’t know  _ how,  _ I’m not like you, Lance, I don’t know how to talk to people--”

Lance scoffed and tossed his head. “Yeah, that’s obvious.”

“And it’s not like anyone at the Garrison wanted to talk to me anyway,” he continued, sparks flying off of his tongue, “Everyone either believed what James said about me or was jealous that I was getting attention from Shiro, no one else was trying to be my friend, either.”

Shiro pushed his chair back and got to his feet. “Keith, hey--”

“Griffin never said anything about you that wasn’t true,” Lance spat before Shiro could make it even a step. “You started fights all the time, I watched you punch him on the first goddamned day--”

“But you didn’t hear what he said!” Keith snapped back. Shiro put a hand on his shoulder but he batted it away, and between one blink and the next he ended up on his feet. Warm tracks of liquid were running down his cheeks and Pidge and Hunk looked horrified, but the firecrackers going off in his chest deafened everything. 

“I never started the fights, everyone just hated me, no one would ever leave me alone!” His voice broke and by now he couldn’t even see Lance’s expression-- his eyesight was too blurry. “I just wanted to be left alone.” 

There was a bang from Lance’s direction, probably him smashing his fists on the table while he stood up, and now he was taller and bigger and Keith couldn’t help but take a step back.

“There you go again with the lone wolf act! Why can’t you just accept people’s company like a normal goddamn person?”

Dimly he was aware that other people were speaking: Hunk and Shiro, trying to get them to break it up, but the fireworks were going poppoppop and Keith couldn’t have stopped the waterfall of words even if he’d wanted to. 

“Fuck, what’s wrong with me?” He brought his hands up to cover his face, his legs not responding when he told them to flee from the room. Shiro’s hands landed on his shoulders again but it wasn’t enough. He’d already tipped over the precipice. “What’s so wrong with me that it can drive everybody away no matter how hard I try?”

Shiro turned him around and pulled him into a hug. Keith’s tears soaked into his shirt as he ran his human hand up and down his back, trying in vain to soothe him. Hunk was probably trying to do the same thing to Lance. Keith found space to feel just a little bad for Pidge, caught in the middle.

“Why doesn’t anyone want me?” He whimpered into Shiro’s chest, who squeezed him in response as though the pressure could drive away the pain. “Why didn’t she want me, Shiro?”

“It’s ok, Keith,” Shiro whispered to him through his hair. “It’s ok, I’ve got you.”

“But you left too.” Keith felt him turn to stone under his cheek, but he couldn’t stop. The damned Galra drug wouldn’t let him. “Everyone always leaves. Fuck, I’m sorry, I don’t want to--”

“No, Keith.” Shiro sounds choked up himself. “I’m sorry.  _ I’m  _ sorry, otouto. Come on, let’s go back to your room, ok? Let everything calm down.”

Keith didn’t have any other option but to follow. 

* * *

Pidge sat in the kitchen after all the boys had left, alone in the aftermath. She’d spent a long time just sitting there, thinking, analyzing the situation she’d just witnessed. Her own empathetic tears were still drying on her cheeks when she sat up straight and wiped them off. 

Well, the facts were these. By morning the truth serum will have worn off and Keith would be free to be his normal quiet self again. Lance was probably moping and licking his wounds. And if she didn’t do something, the two stupid boys would just let this whole thing go without discussing it and let the issues underneath fester for however long it took for another explosion.

With a sigh Pidge finally stood from her chair, the cracking of her joints echoing through the empty room, and scooped up her laptop. There were some discussions that needed to be had. 

She went to Lance’s room first, unsurprised to find the door unlocked when she tried it. It slid open and things were exactly as she’d predicted-- Lance and Hunk huddled on Lance’s bed, him sitting up against the headboard with miserable red rimmed eyes and Hunk sat in front of him. 

Pidge leaned casually up against the doorframe as Lance’s eyes found hers.

“You need to say sorry to him.”

She was expecting at least a little bit of a fight. A bit of protest, some posturing, but Lance merely hugged his knees to his chest with a sigh. 

“I know.”

She blinked. “That’s it? No arguing?”

Lance shook his head glumly, and Hunk put a supportive hand on his knee. “I know when I’ve fucked up, Pidge.”

“Oh. Well. That’s good, I guess. See you in the morning?”

He gave a little nod and Hunk looked up with a tiny, strained smile. “See you in the morning, Pidge.”

She had to knock on Keith’s door and wait for access to be granted before she stepped in. Shiro was there, as expected, spread out on Keith’s bed and staring up at the ceiling like it held the answers to all of life’s questions. What did surprise her was Keith-- curled up into a tiny ball between Shiro and the wall, his head resting on Shiro’s lap while the Black Paladin ran his metal hand through his hair. A blanket had been pulled over him, jacket and all, and now all that was visible of him was his dark mop of hair. 

Shiro looked up with tired eyes. “Hey Pidge.”

“Hey.” She had to clear her throat before continuing; seeing Keith so vulnerable was doing something strange to her. “Lance is gonna apologize in the morning.”

Shiro hummed a bit in the back of his throat. “Good,” he sighed, “I should’ve made them sort this out a long time ago.”

Pidge shrugged one shoulder and adjusted her grip on her laptop. “You had other things to worry about.”

“Thanks for letting me know.” It was a dismissal, but Pidge didn’t mind. She felt as tired as Shiro looked. 

“No problem. ‘Night.”

“Goodnight.”

As Pidge made her way to her own bunk, she ran the entire day through her thoughts one more time, and came to a decision.

She wasn’t ever going to let Keith feel alone again. 


End file.
